


Important Questions

by stitchcasual



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drunk Shenanigans, Fluff, M/M, in which Fenris is much better at holding liquor than Hawke, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9655817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchcasual/pseuds/stitchcasual
Summary: Fenris and Hawke go drinking and afterward, a drunk Hawke has a few, very important questions he needs to ask Fenris.Or: the fluffiest thing I have ever written, seriously this is pure fluff





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoxfordcommando](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoxfordcommando/gifts).



> <3! I hope you like it!

“Fenrissss,” Hawke said, exulting in the sibilant as it hissed out of his mouth. He clutched a lamppost, peering out from behind it with wide brown eyes at the man standing before him, who was trying (and failing) to look unamused. Fenris had his hands in his pockets, an impressive feat since he had matched Hawke drink for drink and was, of the two of them, the only one still able to stand unassisted. His dark green shirtsleeves bunched up around his elbows, displaying the vitiligo he usually kept hidden.

“Yes, Hawke?” He shifted his weight, prepared to catch Hawke should he make a dive for the pavement.

Hawke swung himself around the lamppost, very nearly taking such a dive, and Fenris only started breathing again when Hawke was more or less upright. He scowled at the dopey grin on Hawke’s face. This man would be the death of him.

“You love me, right?” Hawke’s drunk-serious face replaced his smile, his eyes scrunching slightly as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed. He leaned closer to Fenris, still attached to the lamp though his hold looked precarious. Fenris pulled a hand out of his pocket, placing it on Hawke’s shoulder to steady him.

“Of course.” Fenris smiled, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. “I am yours.”

Hawke’s big, stupid grin came back, and he let go of the lamppost, reaching to take Fenris’s hand in his. He toppled forward, the only thing preventing him from hitting the ground being Fenris’s deceptive strength. Fenris held Hawke up with one hand, though he unpocketed the other to help stabilize Hawke, setting him back against the lamppost. Hawke still clutched the hand Fenris had on his shoulder, looking honestly so delighted at Fenris’s answer in the affirmative that Fenris couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Oh good,” Hawke said. “Because I have a very important question.”

Fenris arched one dark eyebrow. “Oh? And what is it?”

Hawke took a deep breath, falling forward against Fenris’s hand keeping him in place. The Kirkwall night was warm for the time of year, and neither of them wore a jacket. Hawke could feel the heat from Fenris’s hand seeping into his chest. His heart skipped a drunken beat, and he clasped Fenris’s hand tighter.

“Come home with me, Fenris.”

Fenris’s laugh rumbled through him, vibrating even the hand that Hawke leaned on. “That’s not a question. But I intend to.”

“You do?!” Hawke let out a loud  _ whoop _ that echoed across the street. Fenris covered his mouth.

“Naturally. We do live together, if you recall.” Fenris sounded amused, his eyes dancing, lips curved in that half-smirk Hawke wanted to kiss so desperately. “I doubt you could find your way home in your current state, anyway.”

Hawke gasped softly as Fenris removed his hand, his expression brightening further. “That’s perfect!”

“Indeed,” Fenris answered, moving to press himself against Hawke’s side and sling one arm over his shoulders. “Now let’s go home, shall we?”

Hawke nodded emphatically and regretted it shortly thereafter, feeling rather too dizzy for such things. He gripped both of Fenris’s hands until the moment passed, and they set off slowly down the sidewalk. Fenris kept them on course as Hawke tried his best to weave all over the place, giggling at nothing. He tried to hug every lamp they came across, which, in the well-lit suburb of Hightown, was quite frequently. Fenris gently steered Hawke away from the metal poles, promising him in low tones that Hawke could hug  _ him _ when they got home. This satisfied Hawke until he came across another lamp, and they repeated the order of events again.

Finally they made it home and Fenris unlocked the door, allowing Hawke to collapse against the foyer wall as he took off first his shoes then, carefully, Hawke’s as well. He led Hawke through the house and up the stairs to the bedrooms. At the top of the flight, Hawke twisted suddenly, slipping out of Fenris’s arms and onto the floor. He blinked up at Fenris, who crouched next to him, as if confused about he had ended up there.

“Fenris, I have a really, really important question to ask you.”

Fenris reached out to brush his hand along Hawke’s temple. “It is the night for such questions, it seems,” he said drily. “Very well, ask your question.”

Hawke folded his hands in his lap, looking for all the world like a small child or a lost puppy. He took several deep breaths then fixed his gaze on Fenris, staring into those big, green eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Fenris looked shocked. His eyes darted from Hawke’s face to his clasped hands to the floor between them, and Hawke wanted to take it all back, didn’t want to mess anything up, but before he could open his mouth Fenris kissed his forehead, chuckling. He held his left hand up to Hawke’s confused face, showing the dark, polished surface of the ring on his finger.

“I already have.”

For the third time that night, Hawke’s face broke out into an expression of pure happiness, and he pulled his hands apart, groping for Fenris’s to hold it tight. “Good,” he said. “Good, good.” Fenris pressed his lips to Hawke’s forehead again and placed his other hand on Hawke’s neck, smiling at his  _ very _ drunk husband. The morning wouldn’t be kind to Hawke, but Fenris would cherish this moment forever: the two of them on the floor of the house they’d recently bought together, holding each other tight. It was the closest thing to being at peace that he’d ever felt.

He pulled Hawke off the floor, guiding him to their bedroom where he brought him a cup of water. Hawke drank it down and burrowed under the covers, wrapping one arm and leg around Fenris when he crawled in and tucked his face against Hawke’s chest. Hawke nuzzled at Fenris’s hairline before kissing the vitiligo Fenris kept under his bangs.

“Stay forever?” he asked, smothering his yawn on Fenris’s forehead. Fenris hummed against his chest.

“I will.”


End file.
